


It's Magic, Silly!

by clarademeanor



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Damaged family relationships, Gen, He's got no control over his powers at this point, Poor Harrison, Pre-Canon, Really real magic!, Supernatural Elements, but we know he'll go to camp and have a great time, mostly - Freeform, sad stuff, the incident with Harrison's brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 22:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19260550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarademeanor/pseuds/clarademeanor
Summary: Everyone knew Harrison was a prodigy in the field of illusions and neat little tricks. That's what magicians were all about.What they didn't know was how deep the rabbit hole went.





	It's Magic, Silly!

**Author's Note:**

> I feel bad for what I've done to my magic son. I really wish the best for him. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

It had started small and easy to ignore. 

Sometimes, as a child, a bit of frustration or excitement would find its way into the physical realm; a falling object here, a burst of light there. These moments started out few and far between- and if his parents noticed, they never said a word.

(Harrison later doubted that they could have had any idea. Adults are good at ignoring things that refuse to fit in with their understanding of the world.)

Regardless, he lived life (mostly) as normal, and he never really stopped to question the oddness that seemed to follow him everywhere he went.  
It was the sort of thing that an inexperienced child views as normal without any frame of reference.

 

Harrison had been six or seven years old when he had first taken an interest in magic.  
There was something so alluring about the ability to confound an audience, to use such subtle tricks even in the midst of smoke and flame; to entertain through mystery and intrigue. 

The idea spoke to something in the boy; to his very heart and soul; to the slight humming that he sometimes felt in his hands when he was especially excited.

The tricks the magicians on TV performed were especially complicated, so Harrison knew a simple start would be best. His parents smiled fondly as they watched him, thoroughly immersed in his new passion.

His brother snickered at him from behind their parents. He had never thought much of his younger sibling, and this sort of interest does not help at all. 

Harrison notices, but is undeterred. He decides that this will not be something his brother takes away from him.

He starts small- card tricks and such; which are not especially advanced, but quite novel coming from a young child.  
He works hard to perfect his act, and ignores the times where a trick ends up doing something unintended- like a card ending up, half singed, inside his new and beloved top hat.

His parents are an audience for every trick, giving him encouragement the way attentive parents do, never seeming to tire of his passion. His brother scoffs, but if he can have his grades and sports, why can’t Harrison have this?

Time goes by, and Harrison’s magic goes from earnest to genuinely impressive. He’s still young- around nine now- but his skill is already above and beyond anything his parents could have expected.  
His repertoire has expanded to include a wide variety of tricks, with props and charisma to augment the experience of his two person audience.  
Strangeness still follows him, of course- but what are a few slips in the grand scheme of things, especially to an accomplished magician?

 

Everything comes to a head on one very innocuous winter weekend. 

Harrison has been working tirelessly on the disappearing and reappearing of objects- and even though the stuff only reappears one third of the time, and even though he can never find the objects again once they vanish, and even though the returned items are sometimes charred around the edges, Harrison doesn’t worry.  
He’s a talented illusionist. He’ll work it out, in time.

His brother seems to be the only one not impressed during his latest show, as usual. He had always been an achiever- constantly winning games, awards, contests.  
Somehow, despite all this success, he still can’t stand to see someone else getting attention.  
He has stood in the back and glowered at his mother and father doting over Harrison’s stupid hobby for all this time.  
Today, though, something seems to break in the older boy- because instead of just silent glares, he resorts to snide remarks and heckling. 

His parents are angry, now- but Harrison’s brother doesn’t care. He wants Harrison to stop being impressive, stop performing, stop being such a little freak.

When his act is interrupted, Harrison is annoyed. When the insults start up, he moves rather quickly to anger. He wants to ignore what’s being said, but it seems impossible somehow- and as his passion is torn apart, Harrison’s breathing goes short with fury.  
He screams back at his brother, calling him out for being jealous- of a kid, no less!  
This sort of outburst is unusual for him, and this is enough for his parents’ protests to fall to the sidelines. It’s just him and his brother now.

The humming is back, not just in his hands now, but also pounding somewhere in his ears. He has no idea if he’s even breathing or not- his eyes are only on his tormentor.

He’s taunting him now, knowing full well Harrison isn’t big enough to fight him.  
Even so, the younger boy’s hands curl into fists. 

He’s really not thinking- and so he doesn’t notice the crackling of unseen energy somewhere above his head. His brother either doesn’t feel it or doesn’t care, but his parents are staring from their boys to each other, a bit wide eyed at the strange feeling permeating the air.

His brother takes a step closer, as if daring him to do something. The humming feels almost like a burning in his palms, but he doesn’t unclench them. Behind him, the various knickknacks on the mantel are rattling seemingly of their own accord, but he barely notices.

His brother’s fate is sealed the moment he utters his spiteful and sarcastic challenge.

“Use your goddamn magic then, if you’re so great! Say your dumbass magic words and make me go away!”

Harrison’s eyes are wide, and for a moment he is completely silent.  
Thoughtlessly, stupidly, he unclenches his fists.

The humming subsides at the same exact moment his brother vanishes.  
There is a quiet crack and a strange shifting in the room’s air; and then the room is short one person.

Harrison’s brain is moving far too slowly to process this new development. The same seems to be true for his parents; but that spell is soon broken.

His brother’s name leaves his mother’s lips in a choked half-call. Their faces have gone pale, and Harrison swallows impulsively. He hadn’t wanted this.

His mother begins calling out around the house, and his father follows, seemingly hoping to find his brother somewhere there. Maybe, in their shock, they have assumed this has all been an elaborate trick to show off Harrison’s new skill. 

They find nothing. Harrison stays frozen in the same place, hearing their calls become more frantic. They thunder together down the stairs, passing him by entirely in their rush to the phone.

 

The next few hours blur together as one jumble of frantic calls, the police arriving, of his mother sobbing into her hands as his father holds her. Harrison stays off to the side, and slowly realises the gravity of what he’s done.  
He’s made someone disappear. A thoroughly unpleasant someone, but still. Where has he even gone? Another world? The void? Or has his brother been killed by his outburst?  
(Harrison imagines his brother trapped in a nightmarish hellscape somewhere impossibly far away, and feels a sick bubble of dread and guilt well up inside him.)  
The bulb in the lamp next to him brightens suddenly and pops, going out. The adults are speaking fervently, panicky, in the other room, and no one notices the reminder of Harrison’s monstrousness.

 

The police leave soon after with their statement, utterly baffled. The house is so quiet, so empty now. Harrison’s parents finally trudge back into the living room, looking tired and haggard. Their eyes are red from sobbing.  
They notice him sitting rather timidly on the couch the moment they enter. He wants to cry himself when he sees their eyes widen in what can only be terror.

He tries to say something- to apologise? An apology won’t do shit- but they just step back, staring at him as if he were some unspeakable evil. Their breathing is short, and they’re clasping each other’s hands like they are preparing for death.

Harrison can’t stand to look at them any more. He jumps up and runs past, shaking his head to clear his mind of his mother’s scream of terror as he goes by. 

He locks the door of his room behind him, and buries his face in his pillow.  
He wants to fall asleep so he can wake up to a world where his asshole brother is still here, where the house feels less hopelessly empty, where his parents aren’t terrified of their own child.

 

Harrison does fall asleep, but the world he wakes up to is as broken as the one he left last night.

His parents don’t leave their room the whole day, and he’s too afraid of their fearfulness to check on them.  
This leaves him alone to take in further the consequences of what he’s done. 

He realises that he’s still wearing his magician’s outfit from last night and hurries to change.  
His hat is the last thing to be removed- he places it reverently over one of his bedposts. 

He won’t give up magic, he decides. Maybe with practice, he can control whatever strange force drives him. He can try his best to bring his brother back. At the very least, he can prevent this from ever happening again.

He fixes his own meals, rather shoddily (his mother used to cook excellent food for the whole family) and retreats back into his room, trying to will himself to feel the energy required for one of his moments.  
The feeling never comes, but he refuses to give up. Even ordinary magic tricks take time to practice.  
The worst moment of the day comes late in the evening, when he leaves his room for a glass of water. He gets his drink and is halfway up the stairs when he sees his parents.

They are in the process of leaving their room (they must have thought it was safe to come out) and they look, if anything, even worse than yesterday.  
Before they had only looked pale and tired, but over the course of one day they seem to have aged years. 

His mother lets out a little squeak of fear as they notice him, and his father seems to usher her behind him a bit.  
They continue to stare down at him, unmoving, almost inviting him to leave. This time, however, Harrison refuses to let them slip away again.

“Mom,” his voice is hoarse from underuse. “Dad, you- you know I didn’t mean to.” 

His mother begins to sob quietly again. His father swallows hard as his eyes drift somewhere distant.

“Please,” Harrison grows a little louder, and both his parents flinch. “Please, guys. You know I wouldn’t-” 

He takes in a shuddering breath, and blinks back tears of his own.

“It’s never been this bad before. I- I’m so sorry, Mom. D-dad. Please.”

They’re both crying now. He is struggling to keep himself composed, and he begins to feel the humming in his hands again.

He tries taking a step towards them- he’s never needed a hug from them so badly in his life- but they recoil violently, and he hurriedly steps back. The humming has now escalated quickly to a blistering heat; he holds his hands away from his body a bit.

He knows it’s likely no good at this point, but he has to try to explain himself. They’re his parents- they must still love him, despite everything.

“Please just talk to me. I u-understand if you hate me, but please- 

They’re hugging each other, probably expecting to disappear at any moment. They won’t even look at him. The heat is crawling from his palms to the tips of his fingers. He is having trouble breathing again. Oh God. He’s done this. His parents are afraid of him. He made them like this.

His voice breaks at the same time the heat escapes his body.  
His next words are nearly drowned out by the flumes of fire that burst from his palms, facing downwards and out a bit.  
He yelps in natural surprise, but at the sight of the flames his parents scream as if they are being murdered. Quick as anything, they retreat inside their room and slam their door shut.

Harrison’s fire dies down. The lock clicks. 

The boy is left in the hallway, surrounded by singed carpet and the faint smell of burning. Tears appear in his eyes again, but they evaporate into steam before he can wipe them away.

He crawls into bed, if anything more miserable than the night before. There is no shock now, no hope for it to be a dream. Only himself in the house, and the two frightened husks that are his parents.

 

Harrison has a nightmare that night. He remembers very little outside of a massive black void and an unpleasant burning smell, but he wakes up to find everything in his room is now on the floor. Some of the more fragile items have shattered.  
He spends a good five minutes putting things back on shelves.

His parents are downstairs in the kitchen, shakily drinking from overfilled cups of coffee. They don’t turn to look at him, but they way they go perfectly still, tensing up as he enters speaks volumes.

He leaves the room immediately, not even bothering to grab breakfast. He can wait, anyway.

 

This is how the next few days go- Harrison avoiding his parents when he can, his parents quaking at the sight of him when he can’t.  
They do eventually speak to him again- but in quick, hushed tones that betray their unbridled terror in his presence. They never speak to him unless absolutely necessary, and never for very long. They never get near him, or touch him.  
They always watch him from the corners of their eyes, as if terrified that at any moment, he’ll make them vanish, or set them ablaze, or turn them inside out with a thought.

He’s been using all this empty time the best he can; practicing his magic in his room- mostly in the evening, now that school was back in session.

He is bullied and teased at school, as usual; but now, more than ever, he fears to fight back. Even assholes don’t deserve that sort of fate, at least in his eyes.  
The most difficult part, though, is the absence of his mother’s comforting words as she holds him after a particularly rough day.  
He wonders if his parents will ever come near him again. Perhaps if he is able to reverse his mistake, they might forgive him. They might smile or laugh again. Maybe they will stop being shells of themselves, if he just brings his brother back.  
But how? He barely understands anything of his own powers, and his parents know far less. How is he going to reverse the effect of something he can barely comprehend?

There has to be someone else with powers like his. At the very least, there has to be someone who understands his abilities, how to control them.

There has to be a place for him to learn, and to belong. Somewhere.

But where?

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah....Hopefully the rest of Season 4 is kind to him. 
> 
> Kudos are, as always, appreciated!


End file.
